It’s the first album you need to ‘watch’ to experience in full

It’s tempting to look at Beyoncé’s new “visual album” Lemonade as a show of celebrity force that’s without parallel in pop music. No one’s ever used an hour on premium cable to unveil an album-length airing of marital grievances so potent fans thought it might be coupled with a divorce announcement. (It’s a testament to Beyoncé’s command over the public imagination that the idea of a promotional divorce announcement wasn’t completely insane in the first place.) It’s a hyper-ambitious political gesture and an unyielding study of a troubled marriage, and the music — did you forget about the music? — isn’t half-bad either.

Beyoncé isn’t the only recent female pop star to realize her personality is powerful enough to serve as an aesthetic coagulant, and she’s not the only artist to use her complicated personal life as fodder for raw, specific art. Where does her genius lie? She marries those two qualities and fuses them to an equally essential visual component, and she ensures it’s all delivered in an airtight package. It’s that combination of visionary thinking and attention to detail that makes Lemonade feel like the endpoint of a slow shift toward cohesive, self-centered pop albums — one that began in earnest with the release of her self-titled LP at the end of 2013.

When it comes to sound, Lemonade should feel familiar: one of Beyoncé’s few contemporaries released a similar album just a few months ago. Lemonade is rich in moments that bring Rihanna’s ANTI to mind: the bulbous synths that mark opener “Pray You Catch Me,” the suggestive lilt of “Hold Up,” the savagery of “6 Inch.”